Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

Fixing Mrs. Flinger Feb 20, 2015

I'm currently working on this website. I want to add back the links to blogs I love, some ways to find content easier, and put in archive, at last, some of the ancient articles. Come back to see updates.

I’m your maid, not your cook Jul 25, 2006

Mr. Flinger knew I hated cooking when he married me. He was OK with this. Maybe I was alluring him with my pre-marital sex. Maybe it was my witty ways and good looks. (snort) Maybe it was my ability to separate darks from whites when doing the laundry. Whatever. He knew I ate bagels, cream cheese and an apple every day for lunch for three years. He married me anyway.
Now I’m all “grown up” and feeding your guests rice with a garden burger patty on it (with a side of salsa) just isn’t acceptable. Apparently, as a mom and a wife you’re supposed to cook? Did anyone else get the manual on this? Here’s a hint: My toaster is broken. My oven over heats and the stove top is tilted. I would rather not eat than cook. I’ll sit, as I am right now, starving...
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Faith My Eyes Jul 24, 2006

We’re not just sex and farts here on Mrs. Flinger. We’re also about depth, and faith, and trying to get The Big Picture while cleaning cheerios off the kitchen floor spilt seconds before having to run to work. We have it all. So excuse the drastic topic change, but we’ve been talking about a few things…
Mr. Flinger and I have been contemplating harmony. It seems a topic we landed on a few days back and can’t seem to put our finger on exactly what we want to say to each other. We both understand one another without having to speak actual words, but being the verbal person I am, I struggle without the vocabulary to express my feelings. So I turn to my blog to hash it out in public among friends, new and old, IRL and IBL (in bloglnad) to see if y’all have...
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My desert island has a Starbucks, a Thriftway, and not enough Anne Lamott Jul 18, 2006

You know how people always ask you what book you’d take on a desert island? You know how there’s always some jackass that says, “I’d take how to survive on a desert island.” You know how you’ll never-ever-ever have this possibility so you say something like, “Charles Dickens!” or “Ralph Waldo Emerson!” and you know you never have to actually follow through? Well, I had to make that choice, sordda, and I chose wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.
We’re now living in our “temporary housing” which means it’s way too small, costs way too much and can’t hold crap. We’re in between homes. We’re living the summer o’fun! Renting a townhouse in a town we’d never afford in real life and enjoying...
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Taking Trailer Trash to a new level! Jul 15, 2006

We’ve been searching for a new home. Lately we’ve gone from “Ohh! hardwood floors! A Jacuzi tub!” to “Well, you can’t really see the seam if you don’t look too closely.” It’s not that I have too much pride to live in a double-wide, it’s just that, well, it’s a DOUBLE-WIDE. The thought of purchasing a home that some trucker guy had to pull over the side of the road with to take a leak does nothing for me. Mr. Flinger was looking at one such home when I said, “Yea, but it faces the wrong direction. No sun.” “Uh, it’s a double-wide, hon. We just pick it up and move it.” Like that’s a selling point or something.
I know what you’re saying. That Mrs. Flinger, she sure is snotty....
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Time to reflect on “why the hell would I do that again?” Jul 15, 2006

LB isn’t sleeping well tonight. This is a relative sentence as she is a pretty good sleeper for the most part. When she was new, I swore she was doing herself no favors for a sibling because the child didn’t like naps, didn’t like sleeping period. I was dizzy from sleep deprivation and going more than a little nuts. I thought of pulling my ovaries out myself to prevent some freakish “ooops” accident (which I realize can’t happen unless you actually have sex so in reality, there was little worry. Little sleep also does nothing for the libido).
As I was saying, she isn’t sleeping well. She’s been up a few times, if only for a few minutes, but it’s just enough that I can’t go back to sleep. I have this “once I’m up,...
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And this is how I found out I really have no taste Jul 14, 2006

LB and I had a pretty good day. I joked once that naps are like mini-exorcisms. Yesterday Mr Flinger informs me that he’s so thankful for the ol’ Aunt Flo (isn’t that just the dumbest thing to call a menstrual cycle? seriously? But I do it, too. Oh, and I have a hayhay, thankyouverymuch. I’m mature like that.) Like I was saying, so thankful for the ol’ Aunt Flo because it’s an exorcism of sorts for the wifey. That psycho PMS bitch? GONE!! I quote, “Every day I’m praying for the MS portion of the PMS.”
Well, there you have it.
So there has been napping and hormonal recovering in the home which means the girls are doing pretty dang well in our family. So, I decided to take charge of this, ahem, baby weight :: cough cough:: and...
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The Schedule Jul 11, 2006

I will do anything for The Schedule. I am not a slave to The Schedule, but rather a willfull employee. I love The Schedule. The Schedule is god. The Schedule is high priestess. The Schedule is the driving force of life.
The Schedule is Mecca.
When we are using The Schedule, LB will wake up at 8ish, play nicely for an hour or two, begin to get pissy and challenging, go for a walk to Starbucks and the park, eat lunch, and nap at 1:00. She will sleep until 3 or 4, wake up and be joyful for an hour or two, begin to get pissy and challenging, go for a walk to the library or the park, eat dinner, bathe, and go to bed at 8ish.
See why I love The Schedule?
I am teaching online. This requires that I am on the computer, working for school, from 1-2:30pm daily. I also have assignments to grade...
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Speak up! I can’t hear you over the toddler yelling NO NO NO Jul 10, 2006

If there is ever time to think, not that I can hear myself think mind you, but if I could these are the things I’d be thinking lately…
Traci and I were talking going to a movie alone. I’ve never gone to a movie alone. Before I probably would feel like a tard. But now? I’m thinking it might be heaven. Very. Loud. Totally-worth-the-twenty-bucks. Heaven. Would you go?
Why the hell do I eat apples with diet cheese, brocoli with hummus for lunch and gain weight? Oh. The four coffees a day? The nightly chocolate chip cookie? The ten pounds of baby weight I still carry around like a suitcase melded on to my mid-section? And how long can you call it “baby weight” before it turns into just “weight”?
And, finally, a whole lotta good that breast...
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On meeting other Bloggers (aka: Prison Inmates) Jul 06, 2006

There’s a lot of talk lately about meeting people in person. Busy Mom is currently out in Nashville with a group of bloggers. I’d lie if I said I didn’t wish I was there. With so many fabulous TN bloggers, I’m sure it’s one KICKASS partay. There is always talk of so-and-so meeting in person or you-know-who and that-girl meeting for coffee. I’ve met a few bloggers myself and became unafraid when they turned out to be pretty dang normal and not at all the mullet wearing inmate I tagged them as.
Recently, having been in “Seattle Proper” I was hoping to hook up with a few Seattle bloggers. Poor Isabel was a little freaked out at the thought of having to see someone in the flesh. I don’t blame her, really. I mean, when Claire first asked me...
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They throw a good party, I’m just good at attending Jul 05, 2006

Every year, the H-dawg family throws one rockin’ fourth of July party. We’re talking Amazing food, great settings, perfect decorations. They are kind, warm, great hosts. They invite anyone and everyone and are happy to meet anyone who comes along, friend or stranger, and they open their home to us all and make us feel like part of the family. It’s a tradition I look forward to and have made four or five trips north just for the party alone. Their fourth of July party is only topped by their New Year’s party and it’s pretty tough to top that.
I am one of those people that is not only the anti-Martha Stewart (and I’m not talking about the prison thing), I usually don’t even remember to offer my guests water. Or, if I remember, it is usually in the...
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